Tag Archives: dreams

Get the perfect brow for your faceFlatten your belly, have the curves;The hottest tips for the new season-Get the glittering stonesAnd the perfect nose.What else is thereWhat can be better,Than a Cosmo dream.Thousands of desiresIn three hundred pages!L’oreal, Garnier, Chanel,Tissot, Swatch, Mango, Zara,The pantheon, the touchstone.Each desire carefully chiseled, carefully styled,Each dream, worthy to die for-That’s the package, that’s the promise.How many, if any,Can have the Cosmo look?At what cost, the Cosmo life?The Cosmo dream sells for a few dollars-(It can be had for free on internet);But the Cosmo life does not come cheap-The merchants will mail the costOf the Cosmo look, on request.Forget the tycoons,And their mansions, and their yachtsThat are featured lovingly here-The Cosmo dream is meant for you.The masthead does not say-‘Cheat, steal, exploit.’ It does not tellHow to fund your dream;It just says, ‘The best you can be.’No crease, no wrinkles, no tears, no doubts,Organic food for breakfast, with honey,Holiday with the monks in Tibet,Opera in the evening, in RomeChoppers and LamborghiniMansion in the Alps, and New Zealand-Would it not be plain silly,Not to dream the Cosmo dream?***

The dreams of the youth oftenCome back to haunt, years later,Sullen, deformed, bitter.You cannot placate dead dreamsWith fresh promises.They are here only for revenge.Revenge, for leaving them behind,For abandoning them,When they were innocent and trusting.Revenge, for years of bitterness,For the knowledge that timeCannot be rolled back, or wrongs undone.Revenge, for your not having tired hard enough.For getting taken in, for having surrenderedBefore the dreams of others.Dead dreams sit at the dinner tableAnd refuse to eat. They accuseWith their silence, they remind with their absence.Dead dreams have the stenchOf rotting flowers, of decaying leaves.They are the plants you forgot to tend.You ask the dreams, to placate them,Whether time can be turned back. They ask, bitter,‘Would you choose different this time, if it could?’Do not give birth to dreamsIf you cannot rear them, cuddle them,And be led by them around the park.Do not promise loyalty to dreams-Be brutal, right at the start.Tell them to find a more worthy heart.But if you can, do listen to the dreamsWhile they, and you, are young.They come back to haunt, if they die young.***

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He plucked the small yellow-red flowersAnd kept them in his secret world, whereThe flowers do not age or wrinkle; whereThey do not lose their fragrance or die.He stole some stars that twinkleEven in the day. It is always sunnyIn his world. He sometimes puts upRainbows and fluffy clouds that sprinkle colors.He has painted his world in bright colors.He has made garlands of sweet wordsAnd decorated them on fancy trees; he has evenConjured up angels and fairies to sing his songs.He finds the noise of the real world jarring.The colors here are too gloomy, he says.He sees only dead leaves in gardens –The stench of hate and greed disturbs him.He does not know why people laugh at himOr call him crazy; he knows not whyHe should believe that the real worldIs more real than his dreamland.He does not care if people are botheredThat he smiles for no reason at all.His dreamland is the only thing he has nowIt is a better place than what he ever had.***

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It is easy to catch the starsWhen you are young. There isA secret spring in your feet that helpsYou jump to the sky and catchThe stars before they blink.You can play with dreamsWhile you are young. DreamsLike to run around, all over the placeAnd make noises. Dreams also likeTo play catch me if you can.You can sit on a rainbow and watchThe city, when you are young. RainbowsAre delicate and support the weightOf small children only. You can throwColors at the city, while you are up there.You can build sturdy paper boatsOnly when you are young. These boatsCan travel on the streets or in the drainsThey can become warships or pirate boats –They just like to sail – they are not fussy.You can be friends with the eveningWhen you are young. This old manLikes to walk slowly in the park, and tellHorror stories about the night.He knows many fairies and witches too.You can get gifts from SantaOnly when you are young. SantaIs shy – he casts spells on the parentsWho see him, making them forget.Santa knows a lot of magic, you know.You can easily conquer the worldWhile you are young. The worldDoes not mind being conqueredBy love. It only needs innocenceTo bring the world on its knees.***